Dying Embers
by lovelicious
Summary: Draco and Hermione forget their differences as they realize they are in love. But when Death Eaters plan to attack, Draco just can't let her world be torn apart by his side. How far will he go to save his one true love from danger? Dramione One-shot.


**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter isn't mine because I am not J.K. Rowling... Please don't sue. :)

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**-Dying Embers-**

"Damn it Granger, leave me alone," Draco growled as Hermione reached over to add a sprig of peppermint to his potion.

"You have to add the peppermint or the potion won't froth!" Hermione said impatiently. He watched as his potion began to froth and turned the right shade of periwinkle. "Well, you know who to thank, Malfoy." Huffing, she turned away to tend to her own cauldron. Draco rolled his eyes.

Once they were out of the wintry dungeons, Hermione grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him into an empty classroom.

"Have you thought about what I said?" she demanded, dropping the pretense as she shut the door behind her.

"You can't love me, Hermione," Draco sighed, as he ran a hand through his sleek blonde hair. "I'm a Malfoy. I'm a Death Eater. I've hated you for the six years before now. We only became friends this year because we're Head students and I can't avoid seeing you every day. I have taunted you, scorned you, _ridiculed_ you because of your parentage. I've hurt you more than I've hurt any other girl. It just won't work."

She placed a trembling finger to his lips. "What if I love you anyway?" she whispered.

The world seemed to melt away as she pressed her soft lips against his. Suddenly, it didn't matter how different they were. He no longer cared that she was a Muggleborn witch, and she nearly forgot that they used to be enemies. The kiss was passionate but frantic, as if they were scared that they would never meet again in private. At first it was a little cautious, but soon they both let their penned feelings out. Hermione ran her fingers through his soft hair, and her head spun as she breathed in his comforting scent. She knew she would not be able to sleep tonight. All Draco could think of was how close Hermione was to him, and his mind felt nothing but bliss. Although they both knew magic, this was a new magic altogether - filled with warmth, yearning, love...

Breaking apart was almost painful. As Draco let go, he realized what they had done. His heart twisted with guilt and horror. Hermione's eyes were filled with nothing less than affection, but he wouldn't let himself drown in the brown depths. He forced himself to be cold; he knew he couldn't bear to hurt her by gaining so much of her trust.

Hermione gave him a soft, loving smile and left the empty classroom for her next class.

Energy and willpower drained out of him as she walked off. "I'm sorry," Draco murmured, his face crumpling in pain.

oOoOo

Draco clutched the vial tightly in his cold hand, hating himself for what he knew he had to do. Reluctantly, he poured the contents of the vial into a flask. It was now seemingly harmless, but lethal. He couldn't let her be hurt by the havoc the Death Eaters would surely wreak, and he couldn't let himself be torn between good and evil; he had to be fully committed to the Dark force so he and his family wouldn't be killed.

Love was too new an emotion for him. He couldn't hold it down and he disliked feeling like he wasn't in control. When he wasn't with Hermione, she was all he could think about, the only thing that occupied his mind.

He couldn't let this go on.

"Hermione," he called, knocking on her door. "Let's go for a walk. I need to talk to you."

She emerged from her room, dressed in her Muggle clothes, smiling sweetly. He took her hand, his head spinning. She looked like a fallen angel, like a gift to him from heaven. Draco was almost overcome with anguish; why did all his presents turn out to be losses? Why did he always have to be the one who turned his own gifts into losses?

They walked together on the peaceful school grounds, the breeze drifting lazily past, contrasting sharply to the turmoil he felt inside. Draco stopped beside a large oak tree and sat down. She sat down beside him and rested her head gently against his shoulder.

"It's funny," she said thoughtfully, looking at the sky thoughtfully and watching clouds scuttle across.

"What's funny?" he glanced down at her, snaking a hand around her waist and pulling her closer.

"Love's funny." She closed her eyes, smiling at nothing in particular.

He raised an eyebrow. Love was _anything_ but funny to him right now. "How so?"

"It's just so unexpected. It could happen anywhere, but it chose to happen here, with my former enemy. And I've been in love before, with Ron. But that was _nothing_ close to what I'm feeling with _you_ now. It's like life isn't worth living without you."

He almost had to choke back a sob. "So you love me, despite the fact that I'm a horrible person?"

"Yes, I do," she breathed.

Draco glanced at Hermione. How could she be so innocent, so oblivious to the truth? How could he take it away from her without feeling remorse?

"I love you," he murmured in her ear, tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear. A surge of electricity jolted through his arm as he brushed her skin.

She tilted her head up and smiled at him. He felt as if he could stay like this forever, gazing into the dancing brown eyes.

A cloud came to obscure the sun, reminding both of them of darkness. He felt her shiver, and, tensing himself and blocking all emotion from his mind like he was trained to do, he pulled out the flask with an involuntary shudder.

"Butterbeer," he explained, handing it to her. "You're cold."

Hermione thanked him, raised the flask to her lips and drank, feeling warmth spread to the tips of her fingers. But with the warmth came a fire too, making her head spin.

"Was that really Butterbeer?" she frowned as the world went out of focus for a few seconds. She looked at him quizzically. "I never get dizzy when I drink Butterbeer."

"I can't let you get hurt," he whispered, not looking at her. "I'm sorry."

"What was in the drink?" she demanded frantically, her breathing already coming shallower as she grabbed his hand tightly. "You didn't poison me, did you?"

Draco closed his eyes and didn't reply.

"I thought you loved me," she choked out, letting go of his hand as she felt her lungs being blocked.

"I promise, Hermione, I do," he said desperately as he took her in his arms, willing her to understand. Draco searched her eyes, hoping to find a similar affection.

She gave him a glance full of fear and hurt. "I don't believe you."

All her struggles came to nothing. Draco watched, frozen in horror, as her eyes became dying embers.

The breeze suddenly felt cold. As part of the shock faded, he took her hand, hoping to feel a heartbeat or at least a bit of warmth, though he knew he wouldn't. He hugged her limp body, crying into her shoulder. The only love he ever found in his life was gone, and it was all his fault. Nobody else could replace her.

He could imagine his father's cold voice. "You did the right thing," he knew Lucius would hiss emotionlessly.

"That wasn't the right thing," he said miserably, looking at his surroundings. Everything was meaningless without the girl in his arms to share it with.

His grief was unbearable, and he knew that if he was distracted, his plan would fail and everybody else that held meaning in his life would be lost too.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, kissing Hermione's once-warm cheek gently, painfully aware that he didn't deserve her in the least. Draco stood up and put Hermione down to make her look like she was asleep. Angry at himself, he wondered why he always had to do things he would regret. He killed her so he wouldn't be distracted of his task, but his grief was even more of a distraction...

"_Obliviate_," Draco muttered as he pointed his wand to his head, closing his eyes.

The spell cleansed him of all thought. Suddenly he couldn't remember anything that happened before his seventh year started, before he found out who he was sharing his dormitory with. He could barely remember _anything, _except for his existence.

He opened his eyes and looked at the lifeless girl in front of him blankly.

Not a single emotion was conceived as he walked away from the stranger.


End file.
